


Some Nights

by ZaliaChimera



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst and Humor, Dare, F/M, Foreshadowing, Friendship, Gen, Lies, Runners, Spoilers, Subtext, Zombie Apocalypse, improper use of tracking devices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2583245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaliaChimera/pseuds/ZaliaChimera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon proposes a dare. Janine is unamused. Minor spoilers for S3M1. Implied spoilers for S2M39.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Nights

“Come on, Khwargo!”

Simon’s got the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, and he takes a swig from a bottle of beer, one of the last of Roman’s stash from a lucky run a couple of weeks ago. They were going to save it for something special, except that really, every day you survive right now is a pretty good thing to celebrate.

“Right,” Khwargo replies, rolling the little tracking device between his fingers, “’cause I want to die by act of your girlfriend.”

Simon’s smile falters and softens and ugh, he’s got it bad. It’s painfully obvious, no matter how much he tries to cover it with innuendo and laughably overblown flirting with every pretty face. “She’s not- she’s just- she’s Janine.”

Roman laughs and throws an arm around Simon’s shoulders. “You look like a love-sick teenager mate.”

Simon elbows Roman in the ribs. “Alright, laugh it up. Like you and that guy from the wall guard, what’s his name Khwargo?”

“Ivan,” Khwargo supplies, grinning at how awkward Roman looks when he’s put on the spot.

“Yeah, Ivan,” Simon continues without missing a beat, “like you haven’t been making gooey eyes at him since he arrived.”

“We just trade stories about home, okay?” Roman says, a touch defensively, and his accent thickens and becomes more obvious when he’s flustered, something Eastern European that he’s never specified. “Nice to have a reminder, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Khwargo says, meeting Roman’s gaze for a moment before giving Simon a pointed look. To Simon’s credit, he backs off.

Simon rakes a hand back through his hair. “Yeah, sorry. God, I would have taken you on such amazing pub crawls. Shown you around, shown you the best beer.”

“I’ve been in the UK since I was eight, Lauchlan,” Khwargo replies with wry amusement. “I know what a pub looks like.”

“Well yeah, I-” Simon begins, and he actually looks worried enough about having offended him that Khwargo has to laugh.

“Oh my god, your face, Lauchlan.”

“I’m trying to be- I dunno, culturally sensitive here!” Simon says, but there’s a smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

“In the middle of the apocalypse,” Roman says, “I think ‘human’ is the culture.”

It’s a sobering thought, and there is a moment of silence, at least until Simon leans over to prod the tracking device. “You gonna swallow that or not? It was a dare.”

“Do you want Janine to kill me?” Khwargo asks, shaking his head. “Losing one of her trackers’ll put me on her hit list for good.”

Roman shrugs dismissively. Great help he is. “It’ll still work,” he says. “It’ll track you. Or it’ll track your guts at least.”

“Real comforting. You’ll be able to find my intestines when the zoms rip them out,” Khwargo replies and there’s a satisfying moment when Simon nearly spits out his mouthful of beer.

 

“That is gross.”

“Seen worse,” Roman says blandly. “That time with the dogs and the nursing home.”

“Oh well, aren’t you two just rays of sunshine today,” Simon says, giving them both a sour look. “Anyways, if you’re not gonna swallow, you have to forfeit.”

“That’s what my boyfriend in college said,” Roman says, and sniggers softly. “We were playing strip truth or dare.”

Khwargo groans and covers his eyes. “That is way more information than I ever wanted to know, Roman.”

“Too late,” Simon says and he sounds utterly gleeful. “Now, forfeit. I dunno… take my runs tomorrow.”

“I thought you were on lockdown,” Khwargo says. “All this ‘spy’ business.”

Simon grimaces. “Don’t remind me,” he says tiredly. “And that’s just for big stuff. Still on supply runs. Can’t afford to have a good runner sitting out.”

“It’s a real bastard who’d do it though,” Roman says, his voice gaining a harsh edge, his hands clenching around his beer bottle. “Selling us out.”

Simon takes a long drink. “Yeah, it is,” he says.

He looks back up at Khwargo and shakes the bottle at him. “How’s that sound then. My runs tomorrow. Or are you gonna be a man and take the dare?”

That smug grin is back on his face and Khwargo looks at the transmitter. He smirks at Simon. “Not a chance. Bottoms up.”

He gulps the tracker, and washes it down with beer, then slams the bottle onto the table. Simon whoops and Roman cheers and if that isn’t the sign of a really bad idea, Khwargo doesn’t know what is.

“What exactly is going on here?”

Janine’s voice is distinctive and completely on cue. All three of them wince and turn to face her. She looks tired, her cheeks pinched, but Khwargo is still pretty sure that her glare can kill if she tries hard enough.

“I heard that someone was tampering with a transmitter. Of course,” she says, “I thought that no-one would be stupid enough to potentially damage valuable supplies, but I find the three of you here and with your track record… Well.”

Simon stands up, his arms outstretched. “Come on Jenny, we’re just having a bit of a laugh.”

“Where is it?” she snaps, sliding out from under his arm when he tries to throw it around her.

“Where’s what?” Simon asks and Khwargo will never know how he can do the wide-eyed innocent act with Janine right there.

“The tracking device, Mr Lauchlan.” She fixes Khwargo with a sharp look. “It is supposed to be sewn inside a piece of mission clothing. However yours is nowhere to be found. Now, I suggest you hand it over or I can have you assigned to the most unpleasant mission I can find.”

“They’re already pretty unpleasant on the best of days,” Roman points out.

Janine does not look amused. “Do not think that you are out of the woods, Runner Nine,” she says coldly. “If you have been part of this…”

“I uh-” Khwargo begins, because she looks ready for murder.

“He swallowed it,” Simon says, and he slips up behind her, wrapping arms around her from behind and he is either very brave or extremely stupid, or perhaps he just has a death wish. Khwargo’s never sure which is it. “It was my idea. A dare.”

Janine twists to look up at him, and Khwargo just gets a glimpse of the fury on her face. “What? He- Are you all as brain dead as the zombies outside these walls? Am I dealing with children?!”

She shoves him away and Simon grimaces for a moment. “Oh come on Jenny. It won’t do any harm.”

“Not to you anyway,” Khwargo muttered. He reached out and snagged Roman’s hand when the other Runner tried to edge away. No way was he getting out of this.

“It is vital technology! Why would you-” Her expression is one of pure fury. “Are you trying to sabotage us?”

There’s a note to her voice that is as close to panic as she’s ever shown and it is terrifying to hear. This spy stuff must’ve been getting to her. It’s been getting to everyone.

“Jenny!” Simon says, and he grabs her shoulder, turning her around, his expression earnest. “Jenny, it’s fine. It’s not gonna get damaged. You’ll always be able to find him now so we won’t have a repeat of the shopping centre fiasco. It’s fine.”

“It is not fine, Mr Lauchlan. I swear…”

But her anger is gone, deflated. She closes her eyes for a moment, visibly pulling herself together before she opens them again. “All of you. Latrine duty for the next three days. It seems appropriate since you swallowed my tracker.” She looks between them. None of them protest. No-one wants to make it a week. “Good. Now, it is nearly curfew. Don’t you all have somewhere to be?”

It’s hard to make a dignified retreat when she’s right there watching, so it becomes more of a chastened school-kid shuffle once they’ve gathered the bottles, awkward goodnights.

Simon predictably lingers. Khwargo wonders if he really thinks he’s getting any after this stunt.

“It’s gonna be fine, Jenny,” they hear him say as they leave. “Promise. Everything’s gonna be fine.”


End file.
